


Damsel Without Distress

by SailorSol



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Female Characters, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Female-Centric, Gen, Guns, POV Female Character, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorSol/pseuds/SailorSol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha teaches Pepper how to shoot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damsel Without Distress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moriann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriann/gifts).



> I know this wasn't one of your requested fandoms, but I hope you like it, regardless. Happy Purim!

Pepper has made an art form out of projecting a cool and confident exterior. She’s had to, working for and with Tony Stark for as long as she has. But here in her own home, where she can wear one of Tony’s worn-in AC/DC t-shirts and old yoga pants and scuffed up sneakers, that image is failing her.

“If there’s somewhere you need to be,” Natasha tells her, “we can reschedule.”

Pepper shakes her head, loose ponytail swaying. “No, no. I’ve cleared my schedule especially for this.”

Natasha isn’t quite smiling; that she’s allowing that much genuine amusement show on her face is a sign of how comfortable Natasha is here at the Tower with Pepper, with the other Avengers. “Alright,” Natasha says. She holds out a pair of safety glasses and earmuffs. “Glasses on at all times at the range. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to have the muffs off.”

Pepper takes them, feeling a nervous flutter in her stomach she isn’t at all used to. Sliding the glasses onto her nose, she follows Natasha into the gun range Tony had designed especially for Natasha, Clint, and Steve. “Are you going to make me disassemble and reassemble a gun until I can do it blindfolded?” she asks, trying to joke. She’d helped sell weapons for years, but she personally hates guns. But the world is a more dangerous place now, and she can’t expect Tony to always be able to rescue her. Pepper refuses to be a damsel in distress.

“I’m going to make you disassemble and reassemble your weapon once. It’s important to know what all the parts are. I’ll walk you through cleaning it after, too. But for now, your time is better spent learning other things.” Natasha sounds like she could be giving directions on the subway to a tourist, practical and straightforward.

There are two guns on the table. Pepper hates guns, but she knows how to recognize them; they’re both semi-automatic handguns, one a black-matte Smith and Wesson and the other a much smaller Jennings. She can’t tell the caliber of the larger gun, but the smaller one is likely a .22, and looks much less intimidating.

“I won’t make you fire the 9 mm unless you feel comfortable after working with the .22,” Natasha says. Pepper shouldn’t be surprised that her expression was that easy to read; Natasha made her living out of reading others. “I just wanted you to get a feel for the differences.”

Pepper nods. She’ll fire the 9 mm at least once, as a matter of personal pride. She despises the idea of not rising to a challenge, and that’s all this is, just another challenge for her to overcome. She sets her shoulders and lets Natasha walk her through taking the weapons apart and what each component is called, before they move to the firing line.

Even in sneakers, Pepper is half a foot taller than Natasha, but Natasha doesn’t let that faze her as she corrects Pepper’s stance and moves her arms into a firing position. “Always keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire,” Natasha warns. “Especially in the Tower, it’s safest to treat every weapon as if it’s armed.”

That much Pepper knows, but she accepts the reminder and tries to keep her weight balanced evenly on her feet. There shouldn’t be much recoil, Natasha assures her. Pepper trusts her assessment, exhales, and squeezes the trigger.

She can see the hole the bullet made on the paper target; nowhere near center, but she still hit the black silhouette, and for her first time, she thinks she didn’t do too badly. Natasha is smiling—a full smile, this time, and she gives Pepper an encouraging nod. She empties the rest of the clip, making sure to put the safety back on and keep the gun pointed down range as she placed it down.

Natasha recalls the target and takes it off its clips, holding it up so Pepper can see the light coming through the tears in the paper. Most of them are in the black. “Good enough to hold someone off until the cavalry arrives,” Natasha says with warm approval. “And you’ll get better with practice.”

Pepper manages to smile, her nerves finally starting to settle. She’s a pragmatic woman; she didn’t need to like guns to be good at using them. Pepper knows she will never be the best at this, but she’d like to be good enough to not disappoint her friend.

* * *

 


End file.
